Forbidden
by DawnsJediWind
Summary: My version of Brom and Selena's relationship before Eragon's birth. This is simply a look into how they might've met and everything that happened afterwards leading to Eragon's conception, Morzan's death, etc.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing! Everything belongs to Paolini.  
**

**Rated: M for future/mild mature content. **

**A/N: This was a story I began work on a few months back, but just now remembered and revised with my up-to-date writing style. I like the idea, but don't really know if I'll continue this. It might be one of those stories I generally update. **

**Anyway, I've always wondered about Brom and Selena's relationship, and this is basically my version of that. If you like it and want to see a little more, please comment. All reviews are greatly welcome. **

**EnJoy! **

**{DJWind}**

**1**

**T**hick mist obscured the looming peaks of the Spine that stretched across Alagaësia's western shore. Nothing moved. No beast rumbled through the underbrush or bird croaked on a bare branch. Everything was eerily still with the cold and wet brought on by the mist.

In between the mist a black figure could be see walking wearily down the rutted road that lead to the castle little more than league away. His weather-stained cloak was wrapped securely around him, the hood drawn up. Only grey eyes could be seen from under the hood's shadow, glancing swiftly along the dark horizon. At length, he took his eyes off of the castle and with a sigh, slumped his shoulders and dropped his proud head as he changed his appearance from a middle-aged Rider to a old lowly gardener.

Brom was surprised to see such a commotion before Morzan's castle. He slowed to a halting stride and leaned heavily upon his staff, raw with the fresh carvings he'd shaved out in his spare time. He watched what was going on, noting two carriages stuck in the mud in the middle of the road before the castle gates. Brom frowned as his heart was filled with renewed hate and anger. All he wanted to do was to kill the bastard behind those walls, the same bastard who'd murdered his dragon and ruined his future. Revenge came slow, but bitter-sweet when it did. Brom could taste victory already in his mouth for these carriages carried the Black Hand of Morzan, the most deadly assassin the Empire had ever produced, to its master. Brom was here sinking information, but he might also strike a fatal blow to his enemy in the process.

Brom edged closer to the suck carriage. One of its wheels were stuck and broken and servants were quickly trying to stabilize it and unload the carriage before further damage could be done. Brom wanted to howl with glee, the sight was a little too amusing for him. He turned away, grinning in the shadows of the hood, and was about to slip into the crowd when his eyes caught someone coming out of one of the carriages. A posed and slender woman stepped down from the carriage. She was clad in dark purple velvet with corset bodice and full skirt. Black gloves covered her hands while a gold ring graced her left finger. A veil of black Surda lace covered her face, but through Brom could something out of her fetchers. Her face was pale and her rich brown hair was pulled up in an arrangement of braids with a few strands escaping across her forehead. Her eyes were brown but life had gone from them, replaced by bitterness and sour sorrow.

For a fleeting moment Brom thought she was beautiful, but in the way a raw gem is before being sculpted and polished by the jeweler. The woman turned away and disappeared through the castle gates.

**-Ξ-**

** S**elena's heart throbbed painful as she entered the gloomy depths of the castle. She didn't look up as she already know what would meet her gaze, frowning balconies with watchful gargoyles. A part of her jumped to see her young son, Murtagh, again

after so long, but another part of her feared to face his cruel father Morzan. It had been a year since Murtagh's birth and the first time she'd land eyes upon him, secretly swearing she'd protect him from Morzan with all her power. She'd been married to Morzan for many years, but was only now becoming aware of his true self. Selena cursed herself for being the naïve maiden who'd fallen haplessly in love with a tall dark stranger. She'd realized her mistake too late. By then she'd been thrown into a harsh reality of death and sin, her innocents being snuffed out like wind to a candle flame, and she'd turned cold and bitter, merciless towards that resisted her husband's rule.

But with Murtagh birth something had changed within her. Selena now did her duty with some reluctance. She found herself turning away from a fresh kill with bail in her throat and tears in her eyes. She tired to crush those emotions, no-one would tolerate an assassin who _felt._

Selene waked through the barren garden beds before entering the castle tower. She was half-way across the courtyard when she saw him, a stumped old gardener who toiled with a late blooming rose bush. He was cutting away its tangled stems with great tenderness as if he relished this above all else, even his own wife and family. Selene stopped, captivated by his hands that moved with such deft ease and grace despite the fact that they were growled and callused.

Against her best intentions Selena found herself walking towards the gardener, drawn to him by some unknown force until she was standing only a few feet away. He stiffened sensing her presences, but didn't stand and run away like the servants did. After a moment of consideration he stopped want he was doing and looked up.

Selena started.

For a moment she saw the old gardener, aged and haggard with deep wrinkles and tangled grey hair, his unwashed beard spill over his chest like thorny vines, but his grey eyes weren't old. They were clear and bright with the spark of youth, yet strangely shallow and chiller as if shaken into some sort of doubt, a deep love lost and shattered to pieces to be replaced by anger and hatred with a profound sorrow behind everything.

"Yes…?" The gardener answered Selena's unspoken question—almost as if he was reading her thoughts though her expression was blank.

Selena withdraw her eyes from his and glanced down at a freshly cut rose in his hand. Without a word the gardener held it up as if it were a peace offering, and she took it. Suddenly Selena turned away and left him, leaving the old gardener looking after her with something akin to longing in his eyes. Brom's throat tightened as he watched her disappear into the tower. _She _was the Black Hand, and suddenly he realized he couldn't kill her even if he had the chance. Something in his heart softened, and all that bitterness and grief he'd held onto for so longer began to melt, replaced by an emotion he believed he'd never feel again: Love.


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

** T**he days that followed were cold and dark, and for Selena fraught with growing despair. Fortunately, Morzan hadn't been there when she'd arrived, allowing her several days of peace with her young son. She ordered his wet nurse away and stayed with Murtagh, caring for him as best she could. She held him in her arms and kept him in sight, fearing if she didn't he might be taken from her for good. She rocked him when he cried and cradled him as he slept, stroking his dark hair and tracing his soft cheek with her finger. Selena wondering what the further had planned for him and what sort of man Murtagh would grown up to become. She prayed feverishly he wouldn't be like Morzan, full of anger and hatred, pitiless to even his closest friends. Murtagh had great power, she'd felt it even in the womb, and she was afraid for him. If Galbatorix knew, he would send for the baby to be raised under his strict guidance—raised in the hopes he would be the next Dragon Rider.

Some days, when the weather promoted and the weak sunlight filtered through the clouds, Selena would walk the castle grounds with Murtagh in her arms, ignoring the numerous glances tossed her way and holding her head high and proud. Most of the time the courtyard gardener was working, and she would go to him and ask after a particular plant or flower, demanding him explain them to her. He would—almost willingly—though Selena often felt that his words held more meaning behind the plant-lore.

"Do you have any family?" Selena coolly asked one afternoon. It was a question she'd been wondering since meeting the old man, though she didn't know why.

"No," The gardener shook his head, not looking up from racking the bed with his hoe. His gruff voice stopped her from inquiring further.

"Your son's ailing," Brom said when Selena approached him a few days later, Murtagh wiggling in her arms. He didn't look up from pulling a patch of tough weeds in one bed. Brom found that he could speak freely under the disguise of an old gardener, though he made sure to check his words before speaking them aloud.

"He has been sick," said Selena setting down a blanket close by, near enough to speak with him but not close enough to case anyone to gossip. Murtagh lay on his back on her lap, his chubby fingers fighting the air as she played with him. "He's fever broke yesterday."

"He shouldn't be out," Brom said quietly.

"He needs the fresh air," Selena retorted. "I don't like him being in the castle."

Brom nodded. _So she's not entirely in Morzan's control after all, _he thought and pondered this new weakness he'd found. He glanced up and looked at her for a long moment. Her veil was gone and her hair hung down in loose waves, pooling on the ground as its rich tones flickered with fire and gold under the sunlight. He had the sudden urge to reach out and pick up a tendril of her hair, to feel its silky softness between his rough fingers…

_No! _Brom slammed down on that longing. _She's evil. She's the enemy. _He glanced away.

Selena had felt his eyes on her. She looked up just as he turned away and renewed weeding. She watched him with growing interesting, realizing that he moved with an ease and rigor one his age shouldn't have. A strange sensation came over her, the feeling of….

Selena looked down at Murtagh and ignored the gardener for the rest of the day. That night Morzan returned, and she was sent on yet another mission to a spy from the Varden.

**-****Ξ****-**

** T**he months stretched on and Selena's visits back to Morzan's castle were few and far between. Brom stayed where he was, learning what he could and relying that information back to the Varden leaders. But he still hadn't made a move against Morzan or the Black Hand. The time wasn't ripe, and his heart was against killing Selena.

So he waited.

The times Selena did return were like light in his dark days. Brom greatly enjoyed her company, however short and cold tempered she could be she was one of the very few woman he felt he could relate to. Yes, he'd bedded many throughout the years, mostly one-night-stands when he could forget the harsh reality of the world for a few pleasurable hours, but his dragon Saphira had been his only true love. Now that she was died he had no interest in anyone until now.

Selena was a puzzle to Brom.

One moment she was the cold cruel assassin, the next warm, kind, and almost—loving. Brom felt there was polar-opposites struggling inside her, struggling for sole mastery over her. He'd begun to feel that somehow he could help her, turn her back to the light and against her husband's rule. It wasn't only for him and the Varden's sake, but Brom felt he wanted to do it for her sake was well. She would die otherwise.

"I wish I could take him out and race him over the planes," Selena said one day as she watched Brom groom a new roan Morzan's horse-master had brought in. The old gardener had taken on a bit of the stable duties now that the stableboy had gone off to become a solider. She marveled at how calmly the roan was towards the old man, and how gentle he handed him.

"I used to when I was younger," Selena added in explanation after the gardener remained silent.

"Why don't you now?" said the gardener.

She gave a hard, barking laugh, "I was a child. I'm not now."

"If it gives you freedom," Brom replied slowly, "you shouldn't scorn it."

Selena's eyes narrowed, and he momentarily feared she would lash out at him in anger, but her next words were soft and almost sorrowful, "Why do I always get the feeling you are more than you seem?"

"And why do I get the feeling you aren't what _you_ seem?" He returned gruffly.

Selena smiled. "We are a fitting match, you and I," she said bitterly. "You are a gardener with nothing but your planets, and I'm a lady of a cold house with nothing to call my own."

"I know a great deal of people who wouldn't say that," said Brom. "You have wealth, comfort, a son and a loving husband…"

"Hah!" Selena snorted, "You speak lies." Her voice lowered until only he could he hear them, "My husband, Morzan, hates my sight and loves his dogs more than I. My son… My son is the only reason I am here, the only reason I'm alive today. I have nothing aside from him!"

"Then why do you stay?" Brom looked at her, his eyes study and searching. His voice was low, but not age riddled as before.

Selena stared at him. She'd had never thought about it like that, it would be so simply and yet…

She bowed her head, "I can't. I'm bounded here. If I try to escape Morzan will hunt me down and kill me for sure. I…can't."

Brom nodded, understanding her full meaning more than she knew. "There are ways…" He said slowly, cautiously. "Ways to do good even in your captivity."

"And risk the wrath of Morzan and Galbatorix? I think not!"

Selena whirled around, intending to march out from the stables to leave the old gardener and their conversation at last, but Brom reached out and grabbed her wrist. Upon contact a surge of energy raced through her being. She stared and gave a gasp, whirling back to the old man, but he was suddenly too strong for her. He grasped her other hand and pushed her back against the fall wall, shutting the stable door behind them with his boot. They were so close, mere inches separated them from each other, and in the dim light Selena realized that the man holding her was no longer an old gardener.

Brom had shed his disguise. He was tall and straight, most of the wrinkles from his face gone and his eyes shinning out bright and eager. He held Selena gently, sensing her growing anxiety at the contact.

"Long have I watched you, Selena," he said, and his voice was deep and kind, deprived of its usual grumpiness. "You are a slave to Morzan, can't you see that?"

"I do," said Selena coolly, holding her head high and proud. "But who are you to tell thus? And who are you anyway? A gardener? A stable hand? A—_spy?_"

At her last words, Brom twitched and his eyes darkened intensely.

"Ahh," said Selena, "so the truth comes out at last? Wait until I report you to my husband, I will take pleasure I knowing he's dealt with your rotting hide."

Brom's grip on her tightened for a second, then he let her go with a flourish and backed away, eyes gleaming with a mixture of loathing and regret. "You take the coward's way out, Selena," Him mocked her coldly. "Can't you deal with me yourself?"

Selena's eyes flashed and she withdraw a dagger from her sleeve, spring on the other man. Brom expected this and he turned, twisting away to let the dagger past him by, he sank into a crouch and grabbed the confused woman by the waist, throwing her off balance and to the ground.

Brom grabbed her neck and forced her chin up, locking eyes with Selena as he growled, "You don't know how much I hate you, Selena." He panted with the sheer hatred that was consuming him, his loins burning with the dangerous beauty so close to him. "I hate you for what you have done to me, what Morzan has done, what Galbatorix has done. And yet…I pity you," He spat out the words with bitterness on his tongue. "I have lost everything and have nothing to gain. _You, _you have lost everything and have everything to gain."

"What if I. don't. want. it?" replied Selena just as bitterly.

Brom gave a sour laugh at what a pair they now made, both anger, resentful and revengeful. He let Selena go and stood, saying, "If you dare betray me to Morzan, you _will _die. I've been mercifully to you far too longer. I see my err now." And his voice was sad as if he wished for something to happen that he now realized would never come to pass.

"Go, Black Hand," Brom ordered, and Selena slowly, reluctantly obeyed. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion, anger and hate, but she was suddenly very hesitated to tell Morzan what had happened.

And she didn't know why.


End file.
